


I need your. . . Pink Cupcakes

by emojicon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, And everyone but him is a stressed out college student, F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The patissier au you though you didn't need, University, Victor is still 27, Yuri is 19, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8807782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emojicon/pseuds/emojicon
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky hated pink chocolate chip cupcakes. That was not to say he hated all deserts in general, just those cupcakes that he had only ever smelled, never eaten. Those pink cupcakes always appeared on the window displays of the Cupcake Castle across the street from his apartment. Every morning, he would start his 10-minute bike from his home to the university campus just as the doors of the boulangerie opened. He would always see them displayed at the window, freshly baked with their distinct aroma of sugary goodness. As always, he was running late and was never able to taste them. Whenever he arrives home, the bakery is already closed and the shop is locked without any sign of the owner. Yuri Plisetsky is a scholarship university student trying to stay sane while balancing work, life, and money.Victor is a creepy baker who might just make a good friend.Sala wants to take everyone to the farmers' market.And, Mila just wants to be able to eat meat.The Bakery/University AU you didn't know you needed





	1. Prolouge: Least and Most Favourite Food

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, people. I'm kinda new to the whole writing fanfiction thing, so please be extremely harsh on me and tell me whenever I fuck up. Thank you! I hope you enjoy my really cheesy fanfic about finding friends where you didn't think they could be. Or something like that. Anyways, enjoy the show!

            Yuri Plisetsky hated pink chocolate chip cupcakes. That was not to say he hated all deserts in general, just those cupcakes that he had only ever smelled, never eaten. Those pink cupcakes always appeared on the window displays of the Cupcake Castle across the street from his apartment. Every morning, he would start his 10-minute bike from his home to the university campus just as the doors of the boulangerie opened. He would always see them displayed at the window, freshly baked with their distinct aroma of sugary goodness. As always, he was running late and was never able to taste them. Whenever he arrives home, the bakery is already closed and the shop is locked without any sign of the owner.

            He had already tried to wake up early just to get a bite of those cupcakes, but luck seemed to hate his for some unexplainable reason. No matter what time he woke up, the cupcakes were sold out or the bakery had not opened yet.

            The goddamned cupcakes were sold out at nine in the fucking morning. **What the actual hell?**

            The only people he knew who were awake that early in the morning were the crazy ass kinesiology students who ate kale as if it was chips, and the townies that actually had jobs in so-called University City. Even his weirdo art major roommate had been asleep at their apartment and left her sudden bouts of inspiration until at least 12 noon. Thank fucking god Mila did not wake up for her lectures until 11:30, he would already be gone by the time she woke up.

             However, that did not solve his dilemma either. None of the (sane) student population of Univera City (which was most of the population of the otherwise small city) was even functioning at 9 am on a school day. Lectures started at 10:30 and campus was locked up until 10. So who in their right mind would buy out his least and most favourite food when half of the city was still asleep?

              Winter break was coming up soon and he was determined to get a bite of those cupcakes even if it killed him. By kill him he meant give him a heart attack at the tender age of 19 when he bit into those (he assumed) stupidly sweet desserts.

 

**\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

            It had snowed outside and the sidewalk was covered in salt, as it usually was in the winter when everything was slippery in cold ass Saskatchewan, Canada. Yuri was far from cheery when he stepped out of his apartment and walked to the Cupcake Castle at seven in the morning. Almost unthinkable on a school day, but maybe a possibility if you were crazy enough to waste your precious winter break scavenging for pink cupcakes.

            “Well fuck, if those goddamned cupcakes are gone, I’m gonna flip my shit all over Mila for staying up all night and being all kissy with her girlfriend.” Yuri grumbled as he walked over the slippery road, clearly jaywalking but he did not give a fuck anymore; it was too early in the morning.

            The road was slippery and the sidewalks in front of the bakery were covered in black ice. Yuri fell in front of the door before he even reached the handle. The jingle of bells interrupted Yuri’s long swears in fluent Russian.

            “What are you doing on the ground?” The young Russian raised his head and saw the source of the voice—a stunning silver-haired man dressed in a chef’s garb. The tall man reached down and helped Yuri off the ground. He smiled kindly at the younger and laughed as Yuri dusted himself off.

            “Goddamned city workers didn’t put enough salt on the sidewalks,” the younger man grumbled. The silver-haired stranger opened the door and led him into the shop. Bright pink and blue pastel wallpaper covered the walls of the bakery. The sickly sweet aroma of baked goods reached Yuri’s nose and made his mouth water uncontrollably. The other man smiled and led him in front of a case of cakes, cupcakes, and assorted goodies.

            “Hi, I’m Victor. Welcome to Cupcake Castle.” The older man, Victor, smirked at Yuri and laughed as the younger man huffed at him. “ **Had a rough fall didn’t you?”** He smirked even more as the blonde man (not boy, mind you) stood flabbergasted with his mouth open.

            “ **You’re Russian.”** Yuri responded in his native language. He examined the man in front of him and almost had a heart attack when he realized the name on his nametag. Victor Nikiforov, it said in bold black letters with a sign on the bottom that read Founder and Operator. “You own this joint?” he questioned, switching back to English. The older man’s eyes met Yuri’s and responded cheerfully in that annoyingly happy way of his.

            “Well, I’ve owned and operated this bakery for 7 years. I bought it from an elderly couple when they retired. This place was once a restaurant, that’s why there’s so much room,” Victor explained. Yuri stared around the shop and searched for the price of the pink cupcakes on the board. He frowned when he did not see the cupcakes on display in the glass case.

            “What happened to the pink chocolate chip cupcakes?” Yuri asked, irritated that his work might have been meaningless. Like fucking hell he was getting those cupcakes, Mila be damned if she tries to steal them from him. He surveyed the glass case again and searched for the price on the chalkboards above the counter. There was no sign of them in the shop.

            “Oh, those cupcakes actually aren’t on sale. They were specially designed for a friend of mine who’s celiac, so I only make a certain amount for him and my other gluten-free customers every day,” Victor explained. Yuri frowned and grumbled as he started to walk away from the counter. Victor called out the younger before he left the shop. “But, if you’re interested I actually have just baked them fresh this morning. Yuuri is actually quite late and I wouldn’t mind a new customer, the more the merrier,” the silver-haired man said as he grasped Yuri’s retreating shoulder.

            “Yuri? There’s a guy name Yuri who buys out all your pink cupcakes?” Yuri Plisetsky was flabbergasted for the second time that day. First, the owner of the bakery is also Russian. Then, his most fervent and gluten-free customer was also named Yuri or whatever. He looked at Victor questioningly and swatted the older man’s hand away. “So, why are the cupcakes always gone so quickly? Is the guy who always buys them out that much of a fatso?”

            “I wouldn’t say he’s a fatso, but he certainly does consume a large number of sweets every day,” Victor laughed at Yuri’s remark. Now that he thought about it, Yuuri did gain quite a bit of weight during the wintertime, or when finals season hit; Yuuri always binge-ate whenever he was nervous. “Yes, his name’s Yuuri Katsuki. He is one of my most frequent customers; he was actually the first customer to step into my bakery after I opened it up. He lives not too far from here, that’s why he always buys out the cupcakes early.”

            The older man returned behind the counter and grabbed a box wrapped with a pink bow from beside the cash register. Yuri raised his eyebrows and saw row upon row of pink cupcakes packed away in the white box; he took his wallet out of his pocket and reached for his credit card. Victor shook his head and told the younger man to put away his wallet. “You don’t have to pay for these cupcakes; I don’t really mind giving new customers a taste of my desserts.” He handed the white box to Yuri and gave him an adoring smile. Yuri’s bad mood slowly weaned off, this Victor-guy might have not been as bad as he had thought. If only all shop owners were as approachable as he was, but then again, he had just met the guy.

            “Well, thanks but I really must insist on paying,” Yuri replied. He was not a charity case and did not want to be treated otherwise, his grandpa never did like accepting help from others even when their family was struggling—a Plisetsky always gets back on his own two feet without any aide. He gently refused to pay when the older man insisted on giving him the cupcakes free again. After a few minutes of arguing, Yuri gave up and took the cupcakes from Victor’s hands. Nevertheless, the sneaky bastard that he was, he put in thirty dollars in the tips jar. The older man shook his head and wished him a good day. Yuri was on his way to the door when Victor stopped him once again.

            “Oh, how rude of me; I forgot to ask you your name!” Victor exclaimed cheekily. His new customer had been quite feisty and refused to take his cupcakes free, it was fair to say that he needed to know the younger man’s name so the next time he came in he would pay double the price. Hehehe, nobody out-nices a Nikiforov—everybody was charmed by Victor’s kind demeanor, as they should all be. His blonde customer turned around and glared at him before announcing his name to the other Russian man.

            “Yuri Plisetsky, that’s my name,” he said before he exited the building. The older man stood at the counter in contemplation of his two customers Yuuri Katsuki and Yuri Plisetsky. He could not possibly call them with the same name; he would get confused quite easily and forget which one he was dealing with. As such, the man made up his mind and gave the younger Russian man a new nickname.

            “Yurio, from now on you’ll be called Yurio!” Victor proclaimed. He smiled happily at himself as he saw his new customer stiffen up and turn around to look at him with a large scowl. He really did pride himself on giving out such original nicknames; after all, Yuuri did look like a cute little pork cutlet bowl—very tasty too. He watched the younger man leave the shop quickly with a huff and slam his door shut. He laughed to himself and looked at the clock, it was quite late, and he wondered where Katsuki was. Victor started sweeping around the shop and tidying things up, the nine o’clock rush was a time when most of his working customers came in to the bakery—he had to get ready before everyone rushed in and left the bakery full of snowy footprints. After tidying up, he sat down at one of the tables, took out his MacBook Air Pro, and started to search for some new recipes. The bakery would soon be full with customers, might as well take his time, and rest before a horde of hungry workers destroyed his shop again.

 

** \----------------------------- ** ** \------------------------------------------------ **

 

Omake: Health Is The Greatest Wealth!

            Yuri arrived at home with the cupcakes in hand, a scowl ever-present on his face. Mila was still sleeping in her room when he arrives at their apartment; he sighed a breath of relief and proceeded to take his winter gear off. He turned around and saw a purple-eyed girl staring at him in the living room. Oh, crap.

            “Hey, Yuri! What’s that you’re carrying?” Sala asked him as she tried to grab the white box filled with cupcakes out of his arms. Yuri glared at her and pulled the tasty treats away from her grasp. “Aw, you should share, Yuri. It’s not fair if you’re the only one who gets to have whatever’s in there,” Sala huffed as she walked towards the kitchen. The cupboards were full of instant noodles and other easy to cook food.

             “You and Mila really need to a healthier variety of meals,” she scolded him, again. Yuri grumbled and took his precious box of cupcakes to the dinner table. Sala was a crazy person in his opinion, anyone who lived off on a diet made of only plants was bound to be a little wonky in the head. He glared at the pre-med student and proceeded to open his little box of goodies. As soon as he lifted the lid, he saw a pale hand reaching out for one of the cupcakes. He slapped Mila’s hand away and glared at the two women.

             “These cupcakes are mine, you ugly hags!” He ran out of the dining room and carried his precious box with him. The two women looked at each other and shrugged, whatever was in that box, and neither of them was going to get it. Sala hugged her girlfriend and Mila smiled sheepishly.

              “I thought I told you to buy food from the farmers’ market,” Sala said sweetly, she squeezed her girlfriend tighter. “You’re going grocery shopping with me today!”

            “Never! I’m not going!” Mila struggled to get out of her girlfriend’s embrace. Do not get Mila wrong, Sala was a nice girl, but she did not want to live off only vegetables for the rest of her life. The shorter of the two women laughed menacingly, she held on to her girlfriend even tighter than before.

            “Oh, you’re not getting out of this one. You’ll be paying for everything of course,” The Italian woman crooned sweetly as she dragged her girlfriend to her room (their room, if you counted the fact that Sala basically lived with Mila).

            Yuri shivered in his room as he heard Mila screaming for help. Sala was probably dragging her girlfriend to the indoor farmers’ market on Main Street. They would probably be eating only vegetables for a week, again. He really hated that crazy woman, but she was his best friend’s girlfriend, so he could not do anything about the situation.

            “I just hope they don’t run out of gas again,” he grumbled under his breath. Other than being a vegan, Sala also did not believe in using fossil fuels, so she got herself stuck with Mila at Niagara Falls when she refused to fill up Mila’s car with fuel. Yuri needed to drive all the way to Ontario in Sala’s BMW-i3 to pick the two up during spring break of his first year in University. He sighed under his breath and lay on his bed. The cupcakes were better than he could ever imagine—now he knew why that other Yuri loved them so much. He sighed and picked up his phone to check his Instagram. A notification informed him that he had gained a new follower a v-nikiforov. He stared at his new follower’s username and verbally groaned. That weird baker-guy Victor had somehow managed to find his only public social media account. “Fucking hell, what does he want?”

            A loud bang interrupted the blonde’s muttering; he leapt out of his bed and looked outside his door. He saw Sala lying on top of Mila, trying to force her girlfriend into a jacket and a pair of winter boots. The two were struggling for dominance and Mila was screaming for help from her best friend. “ **Godammit, Yuratchka! Fucking help me!”**

            “Oh-ho, you aren’t getting any help from Yuri, right?” Sala glared at the younger man in question. Yuri shrank into his bedroom and left Mila to fend for her own against Sala. Mila screamed some expletives at him in Russian and English, but he refused to help the red-head—he wasn’t going to get killed because he decided to help her, thank you very much. He lay on his bed and plugged some earbuds into his ears, today was going to be a long day.


	2. Bonus Chapter (1): Two Witches And A Drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Thanks for stumbling upon this story. So far so good, I guess. I just hope I can keep writing this weird-ass story and please all of y’all. If I can keep up my schedule and schoolwork does not kill me, I will update every week on Thursday. This chapter will be heavily focusing on Sala and Mila’s relationship. Hope you enjoy! Have a good day, lovelies!  
> P.S.:  
> Sorry, I have not finished writing the first chapter. I really want to focus on Sala and Mila because I love the two of them so much, and I really want to explore their relationship thoroughly. I promise I will update the first chapter in time, or else y’all can send me death threats via email. If y’all find something amiss in the story, you can contact me via email at margorenati@gmail.com. Since Archive Of Our Own does not include a private messaging function, I would prefer that you contact me via email. Thank you! Enjoy the chapter!

            The first time Sala met her future girlfriend, Mila was half-naked and drunk on boxed wine. The two women had met by chance at a sorority party where Sala was being inducted in her first year. Mila was being ‘supervised’ by Yuri who was sulking after his best friend.

            “No, I am not going to drink. If you get caught underage drinking, you are not dragging me down with you,” Yuri hauled his best friend off the mini-bar/island to the door. Mila drunkenly held on to her best friend for dear life; she had waaaay too much Barefoot, she could see three different versions of Yuri.

            “Y-yuuuri, I’m not drunk yet, let’s not go home. I’m st-still f-fine,” she grumbled. Yuri dragged his best friend to the front entrance but Mila struggled and fell out of his hold. The shorter man shook his head and walked out of the door into his Corolla. He would soon regret his actions after arriving at his apartment building. He had left a half-naked, drunk Mila at a sorority party. Oh, well.

            Sala stared at the blonde-haired person dragging the busty redhead through the door. She was disputing whether to help the poor guy or leave him alone just so she won’t embarrass herself. She giggled as the woman fell out of her friend’s grasp and onto the ground. Sala walked forward, helped the woman off the ground, and smiled weakly. She regretted her actions soon after when the woman slumped into her arms and passed out completely. The Italian struggled to stand with all the dead weight. She searched around for the taller woman’s friend at the door, but he was not where he stood a few seconds ago. Well, fuck.

            The brunette hauled the older woman over her shoulder and up the stairs. When she reached her dorm room, she saw two people making out on top of her new king sized bed—it had been Mickey’s gag gift to her for freshman year, “Use it wisely, and always with protection.” Sala was outraged and kicked the two out of her room. She slammed the door after them and locked it for good measure. She dropped the surprisingly light woman onto her bed. Afterwards, she grabbed the trashcan near the door and placed it beside her bed, just in case the redhead woke up and the alcohol did not sit very well in her stomach. Sala lifted the covers over the woman then readied herself for bed. She set up a sleeping bag on her floor and turned off the lights. She would later wake up when a pillow was smushed into her face to suffocate her.

            Sala struggled out of the hold and tackled the person who attacked her to the ground. She had studied karate since she was four and could knock out a sizeable person in less than 20 seconds. Her attacker struggled to get out of her hold and called out for her to stop in between choking on their spit. “L-let go o-of me!”

            The Italian woman looked at the person beneath her and recognized her as the busty redhead she had taken to her room the night before. She apologized profusely for attempting to incapacitate her and take her down, “I did not mean to choke you, sorry. I just thought you were trying to kill me, you know?”

            The older woman introduced herself as Mila Babicheva, a 21-year-old visual arts major, “What the hell? Why am I in you room anyways? Wait, did we have sex?”

            Sala shook her head in panic and explained what happened the night before, “No, no! You were drunk and your friend left, so I took you to my room.” Mila pondered on this for a minute before sneering at the brunette and asking another question. “You gay? I mean, I have nothing against gay people, seeing, as I am one myself. I would not really mind going out with a hot girl like you. I like taking opportunities too you know, especially with something pretty.”

            Sala pushed the other woman out of her door and into the hallway. What an attitude! She had only met the older woman last night when she had taken pity on her drunk-ass. She huffed and grumbled to herself about ‘rude, egotistical bitches’ as she started her morning routine. When she opened the door leading to her hallway, the sneering redhead was still standing outside her doorway. “What’s your phone number, little lady?”

            Later that day, Mila would leave the sorority house with a black eye and a phone number in her hand.


End file.
